


An Unexpected Lesson

by Elphen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha John, Alpha Mycroft, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Jealous Sherlock, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Mary, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Pining Sherlock, Possessive John, Possessive Sherlock, first heat, public school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 10:39:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6800392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elphen/pseuds/Elphen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is 17, in the lower Sixth in a public school he does not want to attend, and is immensely proud of not having presented as any secondary gender yet. When Alpha John joins the staff as the school doctor, he is not only intrigued despite himself, he finds his body reacting in ways he hadn't predicted or was prepared to handle. That he might be able to cope with, but the jealousy he experiences when he finds John to have a girlfriend pushes him to do things that are far from wise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling for a doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission, would you believe it? It's so amazingly lovely, I can't describe it.
> 
> Anyway, a few notes before you start reading, so that you know before diving in. I have not been to public school, so any information was gleaned from the interwebs. Apropos that, I mentally set it in the mid-90s, just FYI.  
> MOST of all, though, I did not put an underage warning on this, since Sherlock is 17 and the age of consent in the UK is 16. However, if that and the age difference of around 10 years squick you out, that's just fine and I hope you find something else to read that you enjoy ^^
> 
> All that out of the way, enjoy - and as always no betas or britpickers, mistakes are all mine  
> Still hate writing summaries

Some girls were whispering. That in itself wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Nor was it at all shocking that they were doing it in class while the teacher in the front was explaining a chemical reaction and what they were whispering about was a guy.

That their tittering was interfering with his ability to hear what was actually an explanation of a chemical reaction that was rather beyond the curriculum, therefore also far more interesting, did annoy Sherlock immensely. It was just his luck that they had chosen today of all days to sit behind him to do their stupid gossip. Seeing as a good few of them were Omegas, he supposed he shouldn’t be too surprised; it did go some way to explaining their behaviour.

The fact that he was seventeen and had yet to present as any of the secondary genders or even as much as show any leaning towards one of them at all was seen as an oddity and something to be pitied about him, even if that did not extend to the rest of him. Sherlock himself, though, did not in any way share that belief. He was very proud of the fact that his hormones had been low enough that he _hadn’t_ presented yet and was thus free of all the mind numbingly insipid things his peers did in order to impress the other secondary gender they preferred.

What secondary gender you were going to present as later on was the customary chatter among students in their first years of secondary school, long before any signs showed of them. Many of the boys obviously boasted that they would become big, strong Alphas while most of the girls either shyly talked about their hope to present as Omegas or proclaimed that they would be strong Alphas, too. The ones who were hoping for Beta status would state their hope calmly and with a shrug, showcasing their indifference to the posturing of the other two secondary genders. The brunette had never given any indication one way or the other when people had bothered asking him, which hadn’t been often.

To be frank, he would much prefer if he never presented at all. The cases were rare, but it did occur that someone just didn’t present at all, much to the chagrin of everyone, presumably. If it meant that he would never be subject to hormones, biology and instincts, but instead were free to pursue matters of the mind wholeheartedly, he would welcome it with open arms.

When one girl actually let out a high pitched giggle that carried across the entire room, he was just about ready to turn around and snap at them. Perhaps he’d point out how that one girl should ask her mother for some proper padding to give her even a semblance of breasts in her too large bra instead of the tissues she was using at the moment. Or that one of the others should be far more careful with her perfume if she wanted to cover up the scent someone else’s boyfriend was leaving on her.

Before he had a chance to do so, though, their teacher announced that it was the end of class and would they kindly bugger off. So instead he shoved his notepad into his book bag, stood up and made his way to at least get a look at the notes for the experiment the teacher had used.

As he went past the girls, though, one of them actually spared him a glance and grinned at him in what she probably thought was a knowing smirk, but instead just looked like she was in pain and trying not to show it. “I think even Sherly here would like him. Perhaps a mature, handsome Alpha is what it takes for you to present, huh?”

“But what if he presents as an Alpha?” the girl with the tissues asked.

“As if!” the first girl laughed. From her long skirt to her pixie cut it was obvious she was trying to present as much as an Alpha as the school would allow before she had officially presented. It wouldn’t be long before she did, though, if one looked at the signs. “He’s so obviously an Omega I’m amazed he hasn’t wetted the seat yet!”

“As opposed to being worried I’ll never develop a proper knot because my very butch, Alpha brother didn’t? I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you, since they tightened the security since your brother went here and so the drugs that accidentally made him impotent before his time won’t really be available to you.” He smiled ever so sweetly. “That is, unless you know how to make them yourself, which I highly doubt.”

Annoyed with them, but also feeling a little vindicated by the look of utter, uncomfortable embarrassment on the girl who’d jeered at him, Sherlock continued on his way, foregoing the notes from the teacher. What he wanted from those he could more than likely find on his laptop back in the dorm room. There he could get the peace and quiet that he wanted.

His room was originally intended for two occupants, but though he hadn’t been able to get Mycroft to let him have a single room, he had been alone in it since the middle of the autumn term. The boy he’d shared with, a quiet and almost self-effacing person, had suddenly had to return home at some point in October and no one else could be persuaded to share room with the brunette.

Rumour had spread that it had been Sherlock who had done something to cause the boy to flee. What exactly that something was varied from story to story, but whatever the case, it had certainly not helped the reputation of ‘weird boy’ and ‘freak’ that he had, mostly unintentionally, developed through fifth form, his first year at the school.

Not that he minded much, usually. Sometimes a small pang of loneliness would creep up on him when he wasn’t monitoring himself, but he would tamp down on it to the best of his abilities. He had no friends and didn’t want any. Nor was he interested in getting any sort of mate, whatever he presented as.

 

* * *

 

The man the girls had been tittering about also captured the attention of the boys within a week or two. Apparently he had been some sort of great rugby player in his school days. He was now their new live-in doctor, but seeing as he was an Alpha, it only seemed to enhance his reputation.

Not that Sherlock paid attention to it, as such. When people kept on mentioning him, though, it was hard not to pick up at least a few things.

There had been a few attempts by some of the younger girls to pretend to be ill or have an injury just to get a closer look, but the man cottoned on to that ploy after the first two and had made it known that the next one to try that would be facing detention. The number of patients did dwindle, but the interest didn’t wane all that much.

With his propensity for getting into mishaps, it was only a matter of time before Sherlock would meet the man himself, for a legitimate reason.

 

* * *

 

“Come on in. Mike told me you’d be popping by. Sherlock, isn’t it?”

The man sat in front of his desk writing, only glancing up briefly before returning his attention to the paperwork. There wasn’t much visible, but from what he could see, Sherlock determined him to be just around average height for the British male. He had a sturdier body than most males, though, and if Sherlock’s estimation was correct, which it would be even when taking his limited vision into consideration, he was packing quite the muscled frame under that white coat and plaid shirt. It was somewhat unexpected and something stirred ever so slightly in the pit of Sherlock’s stomach.

“Yes, Doctor.” He meant it to sound slightly sarcastic, but it came out more deferential than he had intended. He blamed it on the throbbing pain in his hand.

“This isn’t the 1950s, Sherlock, call me John.” The doctor, John, did look up then as he put down the biro he’d used and then he smiled. A small quirk of the lips on one side that reached up into his blue eyes.

Then he stood up and Sherlock noted that he was not all that tall, at least compared to the brunette who’d had a few growth spurts in the previous year, leaving him slightly gangly to behold.

“Right, then. If you’d just hop up onto the examination table and pull up your sleeve, I’ll be right with you.” He went over to the sink in the room to disinfect his hands.

Sherlock complied, trying to spot as many details about the man as he could while his back was turned. He was younger than he immediately appeared, judging by the smoothness of the skin on his neck, though he wasn’t fresh out of university or finishing his stint as a junior doctor. It hadn’t been too long since he’d qualified, however; his eyes had not yet gained the deep seated weariness of the previous doctor in school, or older doctors in general. Even most of the staff had that look.

“Now, Mike said you caused a bit of a stir in the labs earlier,” John said by way of making conversation. He had sat down on a rolling stool that he’d pulled up in front of the examination table. Sherlock wanted to roll his eyes, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the raised brow or that quirk of lips he was treated to again.

“I suppose you could call two chemicals reacting unfavourably and causing a ball of gas, a small fire and spillage of the acidic substance next to it onto the counter for ‘a bit of a stir’,” he said instead.

“You managed that from the chemicals available in a school lab?” the doctor asked, sounding genuinely surprised. In turn that surprised the teen. That was not how the adults normally tended to react to his stunts, to put it mildly. He gave a short nod.

“I’m impressed. We certainly never managed anything as interesting as that with the stuff we were allowed from the storage.”

Sherlock kept quiet at that, knowing that he shouldn’t add insult to injury by admitting to having liberated a few things from the locked cupboards. It wasn’t as if he had done it in order to vandalize school property or anything. There had been an experiment that he wanted to try out and the chemicals needed weren’t in the regular cupboards.

Of course silence was as good as a confession. The doctor’s smile turned knowing before he shifted his attention towards the younger man’s hand. At first he didn’t touch it as he examined it, asking Sherlock to turn it this way and that so he could get a gauge on the extent of the damage. Sherlock approved of his thoroughness.

When his hand was grasped, though, a shiver went unintentionally through him. The grip was sure and firm for a doctor, but surprisingly gentle for an Alpha. The somewhat short fingers were broad and calloused, but skimmed across the burn on Sherlock’s hand without touching any more than was necessary for the examination. Despite that, Sherlock felt another, harder shiver pass through him at the unintended caress. It was rather disconcerting, especially since the rare touches he received from others had never had that effect on him.

“Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” God, he was practically humming and he had no idea why.

“Sherlock? Is the pain growing worse?”

“Why do you say that, Doctor?”

John wasn’t reacting to the younger man’s tone. Instead he was frowning, a worried expression on his face. “Because you’re shaking and starting to sweat slightly. You’re not on any suppressants, are you?”

“Not presented yet,” the brunette managed to get out. He had indeed started to feel somewhat hot, but he had ascribed that more to his acid burn than anything to do with his biology kicking in.

He very firmly also told himself the slight heat in his cheeks were from that as well and had nothing to do with his admission.

Unexpectedly, the doctor did not express any sort of surprise at that, offer a platitude or otherwise comment. Instead he merely nodded and turned towards his cabinets, mumbling under his breath as he searched for the petroleum jelly that would soothe the pain and some gauze to wrap around the hand when he had properly irrigated the burn. What he was mumbling about Sherlock couldn’t properly hear, even though he strained to do so. It didn’t sound as though it was only to do with the burn, though.

The younger Holmes shifted a little in an attempt to get comfortable, as sitting on the examination table for any length of time was anything but pleasant, only to freeze up almost instantly. He was indeed feeling hot, but that he had actually sweated down his backside he hadn’t been expected at all. Nevertheless, as he shifted, there was a slight, but definite feeling of slickness between his buttocks.

It was only when something painful, yet soothing touched his hand and his eyes shot wide open that he became aware that he had closed them to begin with. Pale eyes stared into concerned blue ones. Sherlock swallowed as he tamped down on his body’s reactions with all the skills he had practiced in the last few years. They had been developed more to tamp down on feelings, but perhaps they could also be harnessed to stomp out physical reactions.

“Okay?” John asked softly yet calmly, like this was how he spoke to any patient. Sherlock could well believe that. He managed a small, barely perceptible nod.

“Yeah. Carry on,” he said, his voice pitched at the same softness. John did so.

Sherlock sat and watched the older man apply first the water in copious amounts and then the petroleum jelly. He wanted very much to be just about anywhere other than in this room with this person, this Alpha, who was responsible for so many things suddenly occurring within the young man all at once. But to run out just because he was beyond uncomfortable and uncertain of what was going on with him would not only be acting like a teen girl with a crush, it would also mean that he wouldn’t get his burn treated. That would be rather stupid, to put it mildly.

So he stayed still, willing himself not to speak as the burn was treated as was best possible with the materials to hand. When the dressing had been wrapped around his hand and properly secured, John stood back up from his stool.

“That should do it,” he said with a smile. He held out a hand and Sherlock realized with a bit of a start that he was expected to shake it. Nonplussed, he looked from the outstretched hand to the smiling face with a frown.

John wasn’t deterred, though. An eyebrow rose and the smile changed slightly, sending another shiver down the brunette’s spine. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sherlock Holmes. You’re quite the menace of the staffroom and I’ve been waiting for you to meet with a mishap so that I would see you.”

“Are teachers allowed to wish ill on their students like that?”

“No,” the doctor said. “But then I’m not a teacher, am I? Your mishaps ensure my livelihood.”

The bluntness was somehow reassuring to the unsettled teen. He agreed with a small nod, but he was still itching, both to get out of the room and for some other reason entirely. So when he’d grabbed the warm and strong hand to shake it and had suppressed another shiver, he had mumbled a hasty goodbye, taken his book bag with his good hand and walked out the door as fast as he could without seeming like he was running.

 

* * *

 

 

Back in his room he let his book bag drop onto the floor as soon as he got through the door and fell onto his back on the nearest of the two beds. He needed to think.

Now he could far better understand why most of the girls and quite a few of the boys had been gossiping about the man, John. He exuded an air of easy confidence, as of a man who felt comfortable in his own skin and was not going to back down for anything. If his physique was anything to go by, he was quite capable of fighting, too; that strength didn’t look like something built in a gym, but out of sheer necessity. That only made it more appealing.

It wasn’t just his physique that made him interesting, though, or the air he exuded. He was a bit odd, as evidenced by his reaction to Sherlock’s failed experiment, but he was also kind without being patronizing, which was a pleasant change.

What was more worrying to the younger Holmes was the fact that John’s scent was really good, or rather that Sherlock could discern his scent to begin with, never mind as clearly as he had been able to.

It was normally an ability that only developed after a teen had presented. For one who had not been showing any signs associated with presenting to be able to distinguish scent was worrying, at least it was when you had no interest in presenting whatsoever.

That he thought an Alpha smelled _good_ instead of just as a threat was even more troubling. If he was going to present, he would have very much preferred to present as a Beta. The appeal of the Alpha’s scent would suggest that he would present as something else, though.

He turned onto his side so he could slide one finger down the back of his pants and between his buttocks. There wasn’t an excessive amount there, but when he carefully pulled the finger back out, not only was his finger smeared with something clear and viscous, the smell of it was rather distinct. Sherlock swallowed heavily, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing.

No. He couldn’t be presenting as an Omega. Please no. That would mean having Heats and being a slave to his body, both within and outside of Heats. That would mean giving over to the instincts he so loathed just to feel some stupid Alpha inside of him, filling him up with seed and eventually a baby.

_But John was an Alpha_ , a treacherous part of his mind supplied. _He wasn’t stupid. He was brave and clever, for normal standards, at least, and he didn’t think Sherlock was freakish and –_

Sherlock shut that line of thought up almost as soon as it surfaced. He hardly knew the man. There was no need to moon over someone just because they’d treated him better than most of the world did, or because they looked hot or smelled fantastic.

He had bared his teeth and was growling without having been aware of doing so. It had to be some sort of mistake. He wasn’t an Omega. He was possibly starting to show signals, but it was just his body being confused by the presence of an Alpha at the wrong time and thinking that it had to be an Omega, then. It sometimes happened to Betas. He was sure he had read that somewhere. Mycroft could tell him where.

Oh, god, Mycroft.

The older Holmes sibling would hardly be impressed if Sherlock presented as an Omega. He would show up at school and drag Sherlock back home with him as soon as possible. That in itself might not be such a bad thing, seeing as it would bring him out of a place he’d been loath to attend ever since he’d gotten there. But it would also mean that his brother would be obligated to set him up with someone who would bond with him when he was of age. That was tradition and there was very little fighting that, Sherlock knew to his cost.

No. He would not succumb to such worries. He would not be an Omega and he would not be so affected by one single, stupid Alpha, no matter how attractive he was or how interesting. He’d suppress the emotions, the reactions and soon enough, there would be no sign of a secondary gender whatsoever.

He sat bolt upright, a determined look on his face, then looked around for where he had stashed his laptop. When he found it, he booted it up, waited for the dial up connection to go through and began typing furiously on the keyboard, which was anything but easy with only one functioning hand, scouring the net for anything that might help him nip this in the bud.

He very firmly ignored the slickness between his buttocks and the fact that he held the dressing up to his nose as his eyes flicked across the screen, inhaling every single trace amount of the doctor’s scent that was left on the cloth.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course he couldn’t simply avoid John for however long it took for him to get his reactions under control. For one thing, however clever he was, he wasn’t agile enough to dress the burn himself and it didn’t look well enough to go without when he looked underneath the dressing. Besides, if he wanted to get any more petroleum jelly on to soothe it, he either had to work out a way to make it himself, which was fairly unlikely given his hand, steal it from the doctor’s office or let the Alpha put some on and redress the burn.

So he trudged back into the office twice a week in the following month, ignoring the snickers from the other students that he’d deliberately hurt his hand so badly that he would need to be checked up on by Doctor Watson again and again.

John didn’t seem to take much notice of the students when they weren’t in his office. He was kind enough when they came, but he didn’t socialize that much with them outside of what was required. Or so it at least seemed to Sherlock, but he would have to admit, if only to himself, that he didn’t want John to associate with the other students any more than what was expected of him. It made it feel like Sherlock was special to the Alpha, that he alone would draw out that smile that was fond exasperation and understanding. It made something inside him flutter.

A big part of him still despised that he was still feeling that way after so long and after he had spent so many hours on trying to regain control, though the rest truly did relish it. He had tried very hard to tamp down on the reactions his body had. He’d done everything that the internet searches could come up with in terms of advice, even masturbating copiously in an effort to ‘get it out of his system’, as the writer put it. How utterly stupid. It had helped not one dolt, only left him with ghost sensations of the doctors broad, sure fingers gliding over him intimately that would then flash before his mind’s eye whenever he went to get the burn redressed, which forced him to bite his lips so he couldn’t be heard panting slightly at every touch.

If only he could get his body’s reactions under control, he wouldn’t mind having to come into the doctor’s office. In fact, quite the opposite was the case.

John had turned out to be far more interesting than he had thought he would be, apart from all the gossip that had been floating around. He listened with what seemed like genuine interest to the stories of Sherlock’s previous experiments, both the failed and the successful ones, and displayed amazement when Sherlock showed off his deduction skills.

He did admonish when the deductions were used to demean one of his fellow students, though the brunette failed to see a problem. He had simply pointed out something that was true, after the other student had spread rumours about Sherlock, too, and had done so for quite a while; that the guy had taken it badly was hardly Sherlock’s fault, was it?

But it had become so, as the newly presented Alpha had snarled and pushed at the taller teen. It had escalated into a scuffle which had given the other boy with a bruised jaw and a black eye, but had also left Sherlock with a broken wrist and a mild concussion.

“That’s what you get for being a little shit, Sherlock,” John commented as he shone a light into the pale eyes to check for dilation. The story had filtered through the student body and the staff before either of the participants had left the scene, much less been to the head’s office or down to see the doctor.

“If he didn’t want to have his mother’s infidelities out in the open, he really shouldn’t be trying to have a relationship with her latest boy toy Omega,” Sherlock said, wincing as his wrist was moved. His acid burn was healing up fairly well, due to John’s care and the teen’s surprising adherence to the instructions that had been given, but the broken wrist was on the same hand, which was almost inevitable.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to just spill that kind of information. I know you don’t think about those things, but people doesn’t like to have their dirty laundry put out to dry in front of their peers.”

Sherlock had to bite his lip in order not say something childish and petulant like ‘but he started it’. It was true, but he knew by now that John wouldn’t approve of it. It was very important for him that John approve of his actions.

He was busy trying to suppress the physical reactions that despite his best efforts had only seemed to intensify the more he saw the Alpha and so he hadn’t realized that he had leant forward ever so slightly, closer to the strong neck. Not only did that also mean he was closer to one of the areas where scent was coming off in concentrated amounts, he also had a clear view.

Normally that was something that would leave him flushed and inhaling heavily through his nose, but this time he saw and smelled something that soured the experience considerably.

There was a mark just visible on the back of the doctor’s neck that had clearly come from a person sucking on that portion of skin until the blood vessels broke and turned the area dark red. To add insult to injury, not only was the hickey left in a place where bond mates normally put them in a display of possessiveness, he knew the scent that emanated from that patch of skin. It made him freeze.

Her name was Mary. Mary Morstan, a blonde Omega just turned thirty, and she was the nurse who had a side job being a sales rep for one of the larger pharmaceutical companies. While that was a conflict of interest and therefore actually technically illegal, the head saw it as an opportunity to get some better deals on a few of the medicines they had to order from that company by going through her.

She had been coming regularly for as long as Sherlock had been forced to attend the school and he hadn’t paid her much heed. Now, though…

Now she had…touched the one man he’d found…interesting and made him react in ways he never thought he would. That was…painful.

_Oh, for pity’s sake, Sherlock, call things by their proper names._ The inner voice sounded suspiciously familiar. _She’s been fucking the Alpha you’re lusting after and has had the balls to lay a claim on him in a way you’ll never be able to._

The younger Holmes tried to shut out the voice that apart from the use of words sounded so much like his brother, but it carried on regardless. _Now you’re hurt, jealous and feels betrayed even though you have no reason to. Doctor Watson is not yours nor will he ever be. You don’t want to present at all, remember? Why would he want a strange kid of seventeen, one who hasn’t even presented yet, when he can get hold of a fully functional Omega woman, one who is older and confident and earns a good wage?_

“Sherlock? Sherlock, can you hear me? Sherlock!”

The teen blinked as he was pulled backwards, not realizing until then that he had leant forward quite heavily, almost coming into contact with the doctor’s neck. His olfactory system was flooded with the smell of John and Mary at the same time, which made his eyes widen and bile rise up in his throat at the thought.

It certainly didn’t help matters that John was looking at him with an expression of deep concern that he _knew_ was only because the Alpha was being paid to be concerned with the wellbeing of the students. It was nothing more than that.

“I think that your concussion might be rather more serious than I first thought. No wonder with you being so bloody stubborn. Can you – just still completely still there for a minute?”

No. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He needed to get away from there as soon as he could. He told himself it was because he needed to think, but if he didn’t get the mixed scent of the two out of his nose very soon he felt sure he would vomit.

He contemplated just running out of the door while John’s back was turned. But besides being cowardly, he had been told off by the doctor for doing so the last time he’d done it.

“I... I’m fine. Just need to lie down for a bit,” he managed to get out instead. “Thank you very much, John.”

He practically stormed out, cursing himself for acting so stupidly. That his body had responded just as violently as the previous two times, with tented trousers, slick buttocks and a hammering heart, wasn’t exactly doing anything to alleviate his problem.

He had to make sure. He had to be certain that they really were in a relationship and, if they were, that Mary would treat John right.

He had always prided himself that he was above the mindless masses ruled by nothing more than hormones and emotions, that he didn’t need to present in order to be an intelligent and competent adult. Now he should prove that by making certain that his…his doctor was choosing someone who was worthy of him, if he wasn’t going to choose Sherlock.

In the meantime, he could indulge himself for a little while with his still good hand. There was no harm in that, after all, even if he firmly ignored any physical response that corresponded with an Omega.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time he spotted them was only a few days later. It was a sunny afternoon for March and so the somewhat sadistic teacher had decided PE for the lower sixth would be held outside. Sherlock had managed to weasel his way out of it by pointing out that he really shouldn’t play sport with a broken wrist and a concussion.

The teacher had reluctantly agreed the point, on the condition that he sit and take notes while the others played. Sherlock had been tempted to argue, possibly even point out some home truths, but then he’d seen John come outside, a mug of tea in one hand and a cross bun in the other.

Nodding and heading over to the wall of the dormitory wing where he would hopefully not be spotted by the Alpha while being able to observe as much as possible. He took several deep breaths as he walked, firmly telling his traitorous heart that the fact that the doctor had actually come out of his office to watch their game was purely a coincidence. He would know that Sherlock couldn’t play with his hand, so even if he did come out to watch, it couldn’t have been for that reason.

Still, he felt his heart plummet a bit when the Alpha didn’t so much as turn in his direction.

His heart plummeted further and a fierce surge of jealousy reared its head when he saw a woman in a deep blue uniform, which just happened to set off her nicely coiffured blonde hair and blue eyes very well, walk up to John and, even with John’s back to him, he could see that the man was smiling when he spotted her.

Objectively she was a good catch for John, he had to concede that, however loathe he was to do so. Being extremely observant and able to deduce based on observations didn’t really leave him any way not to acknowledge the facts. She was highly qualified, he’d checked that, so she couldn’t be too idiotic, even if she used vocabulary designed to impress; she earned a rather good wage, even if you didn’t count the little business venture on the side, she had the physique to carry a good number of children…

Sherlock shot the thought down right there. It was bad enough having to watch the woman not only touch John in a more than friendly way several times, but also kiss him rather aggressively for an Omega and make sure that she had his arms around her.

That John seemed slightly uncomfortable with all of that was probably just in Sherlock’s mind.

When Mary turned her head for the briefest of moments, her eyes sought out Sherlock and she smiled. It wasn’t a particularly evil smile or even all that knowing and it lasted only for a moment before she turned back around, but it was enough to send the message, at least in Sherlock’s brilliant, but still teenage brain, that she had laid a claim and he had best come to terms with that.

The younger Holmes managed to stay his ground this time as he looked at them, thankful that John seemed completely oblivious and didn’t once turn around, even if a part of Sherlock was saddened by that, too; he had his proof.

It _really_ did hurt, down to his very bones.

 

* * *

 

 

John sighed heavily, tilted his head backwards and let his hand cover his face. “Sherlock, I’m not blind, I can see you perfectly well. Stop skulking around outside my window like someone from a bad vampire flick and come in here. _Now_.” The last word was delivered in a tone of voice that brooked no argument.

Ten minutes later the teen came in through the door, a sour expression on his face and his hands behind his back. He didn’t meet the other man’s eyes even when he sat down on the examination table.

John wasn’t playing ball. “None of that teenage nonsense now, Sherlock, it’s bad enough that you haven’t been in for a check-up in two weeks. I thought you were far cleverer than that.”

“I’m certainly far cleverer than any of the staff on this school, male or female!” The words were out before the teen had a chance to reign himself in and he cursed on the inside that he hadn’t been able to keep his big mouth shut.

“Ah.” For a moment the doctor just sat on his rolling stool, eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the lanky figure sitting on the examination table, not saying anything further as he looked at the boy. Then he leant forward so his elbows were resting on his knees, concern mixing with the annoyance in his eyes, Alpha scent strong in the air.

“What have I done to upset you? You _know_ you’re far more intelligent than most of us here, far cleverer than me, certainly. That doesn’t bother you on a normal day, nor does the tedium of coming in here to get your injuries checked out. Yet you haven’t set foot in this office in at least two weeks, despite your acid burn and your broken wrist. I’m not even going to mention your concussion. You have been attending your lessons normally otherwise, your teachers have told me, though, so it’s not that, and there’s no exams you need to cram for right now, either.”

He leant further forward, concern now the dominant expression on his face. “It’s clearly something to do with me. You skulk around the area, scaring younger students, but you refuse to interact with me.” John gave a half-smile that was rather odd. “Even now you’re studiously looking everywhere else but me. So I ask again, what have I done?”

“Nothing.” He was able to say it without much emotion leaking into his voice. In the preceding two weeks, in his self-enforced John celibacy, his efforts to school his emotions had improved rather dramatically, his previous uncontrolled outburst notwithstanding. It was the only reason he had actually come inside when John had demanded it. Well, mainly that, in any case.

“Nothing?” incongruously dark eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Are you honestly giving me that bull?”

“Are you calling my telling you the truth for ‘bull’?”

For a moment that seemed to stretch on for a lot longer, anger boiled in the depths of the Alpha’s blue eyes. The air became saturated with Alpha pheromones and a sense of danger. Sherlock swallowed involuntarily under the tension, but did not back down.

The tension broke when the anger disappeared, quite suddenly; the normally vivid, sparkling blue eyes that had Sherlock so fascinated dulled into icy grey blue while the face around them settled into a carefully blank mask.

“Fine,” he said finally, his voice just as flat and expressionless as his face had become. “It’s none of my business what you get up to, after all. I’m only your school doctor. Now, as your doctor, will you allow me check you over for any problems that may have come along since last time?”

The brunette nodded, confused by the expression or lack thereof on John’s face. That was not the reaction he’d been expecting at all. If pressed, he would have a hard time articulating just what he had expected, but the distanced, indifferent façade certainly wasn’t it. It somehow managed to cut deeper than anger.

Then he remembered the reason he had stayed away in the first place and his resolve hardened. He would beat this jealousy that had been festering stronger and stronger as the days had passed; it would fade and he would be back to his normal self, able to meet John as they should be, doctor and student. Nothing more.

His heart protested violently as he thanked the doctor for his time and walked quietly out and back towards the dormitories.

So did his groin. As he lay fully stretched, completely nude under his covers that night, his mind provided plenty of images of John being assertive and aggressive, of those eyes flashing in anger again as well as in possessiveness as he pinned his partner down and showed them exactly who was in charge. There would be no cocky Omegas to defy him.

Unfortunately, his mind could also provide the accompanying images of Mary in bed with John, surprised and delighted by the show of dominance that he otherwise kept toned down, taking full advantage of it as she moaned and begged for more, play-acting at being the perfect Omega for her Alpha, leaving all kinds of marks all over him that he would later display like a badge of pride.

Sherlock only snapped back to the reality of his darkened, solitary room when the sound of fabric tearing registered in his mind. He looked down and saw that he had actually managed to pull so violently on the linen of his sheets that he had torn a hole in it. He stared at it in disbelief.

Right. That was it. He needed a more effective way if he was going to get John out of his system.

He took a deep breath, loath to think the thought, but unable to think of any other solution.

He would ‘get laid’, as his peers put it. He would find someone who’d be amenable to his advances and all of his pent up frustration would be let out and sated. That way he could go back to the way he was and, if he ended up presenting after all, he would ask Mycroft for help.

God, he really _was_ desperate, wasn’t he?

 

* * *

 

“Sherlock? Sherlock, are you sure this is a good idea?”

The boy, a reasonably attractive redhead who was a rather quiet type and had recently presented as an Alpha, much to his complete shock, looked around them with some apprehension.

They were on the fourth floor, in a series of dormitory rooms that were now considered far too cramped to house any actual students. Instead the rooms were used for storage of all kinds. It would have been an ideal place for the school delinquents to hang around, smoke and drink, except that it was far too hot in the spring and autumn and far too cold in the winter.

The room where the old mattresses that might just still have some use were kept would be perfect, especially when at this time of the evening.

“It’s fine.”

The teen didn’t look convinced. “Only, we’re not supposed to be here and – “

“Oh, shut up. Look, if you don’t want to do this – “

“No, no,” the boy assured hastily, a light blush rising to his cheeks. _He really was rather meek for an Alpha_ , Sherlock thought. _Not at all like_ …Sherlock shut that thought down quickly. “I want to. I just…I didn’t think you’d be interested, that’s all.”

Telling himself just why he was doing this, the brunette dredged up the same sweetly seductive attitude he’d used to get the guy to agree to do this to begin with. “Oh, I am,” he said in a much sweeter tone than before, almost purring. He moved closer to the other teen, almost touching him. “Most definitely. Such a pleasant surprise to find out that you presented Alpha.” He flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

The redhead swallowed visibly. “Yeah…yeah, it was. First in the family…I never thought…when you…god, Sherlock, you have no idea…”

He grabbed onto the brunette’s bony hips and dragged him closer, fingers trembling slightly as they dug in. He then leant forward and sniffed at Sherlock’s neck where his scent glands would be puffing out scent, had he presented as any of the secondary genders. “Amazing that you haven’t presented as anything…you’re so fucking gorgeous, though, and…you still smell good. Like, _really_ good.”

With that, he lowered his head and started sucking gently on the skin that wasn’t covered by a uniform shirt and pullover. Sherlock hadn’t expected much of a reaction from his own body from that, given that he hadn’t presented and it wasn’t the Alpha who had aroused him regardless. But when that mouth closed over his skin and sucked, a shiver went through him. It was followed by another shiver and yet another.

When his partner scraped his teeth over one spot in particular, the shiver intensified into a full-blown shudder and there was no helping the moan that bubbled up from his throat.

An image of Mary sucking at the same place on John’s neck and the expression that the doctor would make flashed through Sherlock’s mind and he almost stopped. Instead he growled low in his throat and pushed at the other boy, who went tumbling backward onto the pile of mattresses. The younger Holmes followed him, crawling over the now prone form with something of a predatory air.

It was all acting, but if it got him the result he was after, Sherlock was going to do it.

Surprisingly, it only made the newly minted Alpha smile broadly, lust dilating his pupils and making his breathing come out in shallow pants.

He did show some Alpha tendencies when he grabbed hold of Sherlock’s arse and pulled him down so that their groins met; his own was rock-hard already whereas Sherlock’s was only at half-mast at the most, which had more likely mostly to do with the pheromones in the air. That didn’t seem to bother the redhead, though.

Sherlock found himself being kissed thoroughly and aggressively, tongues and all. He managed to give as good as he got, but he couldn’t say he enjoyed it particularly much. It wasn’t so much the technique; objectively he had to admit that he knew about as little about what he was doing as his partner did. It had more to do with the feeling not only that this was not the right person he was doing it with, but that there was something wrong in general.

When one hand snaked down underneath his trouser and pants and traced the crack of his arse, another, violent shudder ran through Sherlock and a bit of what could only be slick trickled out between his buttocks, much to the delight of the teen underneath him, who inhaled sharply at the new scent in the air and then groaned loudly.

“Bloody hell, Sherlock, that’s…”

But Sherlock wasn’t listening. As the trickle escaped him, a flood of warmth spread through like a tidal wave, leaving a blazing trail of over-sensitized nerve endings and a gnawing emptiness deep inside of him.

That would have been fine for the carnal activities he had planned with the Alpha underneath him, but the sheer volume of sensations crashing over him would have been overwhelming to anyone going through it. For one without any experience in such matters it was downright staggering.

He somehow managed to get off the mattresses and onto his feet, eyes wide as he looked at the other’s completely nonplussed face.

“Sherlock…”

“No…” the brunette whispered. It was the only word he could get out. “No…”

“Sherlock, it’s okay,” the ginger boy said in a voice that was both pleading and soothing. He reached out a hand, but Sherlock shook his head mutely in denial.

Then he turned and fled, out of the room, away from the Alpha that was the wrong Alpha, from what he couldn’t deal with.

Too much. It was just far too much.


	2. Teaching My Heart Not to Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock runs to the Alpha he's wanted for so long. What will the result of that be and what will the further consequences of their actions mean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that I had it all finished and so I can give you the rest of the story already. :) i was tempted to split it into three, but then I thought you all deserved to have it finished now.  
> Thank you very much for the all the kind feedback, it is treasured :)

How long he ran for, he had absolutely no idea. In some distant part of his brain he was glad that it was evening and most people would be back in their dorm rooms, in the common rooms or as far away from the school as they possibly could be without being caught or getting into too much trouble.

His body concentrated on just getting as far away as possible from what he had been about to do, lithe legs useful in taking him farther more quickly. Meanwhile, his mind was in turmoil and battling with the sensations running rampant within him.

It went far beyond anything he’d felt before, even the experiences he had had since John had arrived at the school and he had no idea at all how to handle it. He wanted to go somewhere he was safe, but he didn’t dare go through the dormitories, on the chance that somebody smelled the pheromones that was floating in the air around him like an olfactory swarm of bees. The school being filled with hormone-driven students as it were, he wouldn’t put it past someone to see it as their chance to get laid for the first time. After all, that had been a big part of the draw for the ginger guy, whose name Sherlock had never bothered to learn.

Without being aware of where he had been going, Sherlock found himself standing in front of the doctor’s office, a hand on the door handle, just about to press it down and open the door. When he blinked and regained a bit of his senses, he stopped, handle pressed halfway down.

What was he doing there, of all places? Granted, on the basis of where he would be safe, somewhere no one else would go that would offer ample opportunity for him to defend himself and might also have a few things to aid him was not a bad choice at all.

There were several catches to that, however. First off, there was the practical matter of whether or not there would actually be someone inside the room at this hour that could open the otherwise locked door, which was highly unlikely. Even though having accommodations on campus was a perk of the job for the resident doctor, John didn’t actually live in the office itself. Close by, yes, as that was most efficient, but not in the actual room. That was quite apart from the likelihood of him having company and therefore being in his own rooms rather than anywhere near the office.

Secondly, even if there was someone in there by some stroke of coincidence, what then? Assuming that John would be on his own, and Sherlock didn’t want to think about Mary or anyone else there with the doctor right then, how would he behave? How would he react to a student banging into his office because he was going into his first, very unexpected Heat?

The brunette’s heat-fevered body certainly hoped for a passionate outcome, if the amount of slick leaking into his pants was any indication, but the rational part of his mind that was still clinging on knew that he would be much more likely to get the concerned, caring though possibly somewhat distanced doctor that he'd seen the last time they’d spoken, not the possessive Alpha that he wanted.

In his internal struggle, he failed to register that though his hand had halted in pressing down the handle, it was being pressed down from the other side. Soon enough, the door was opened and Sherlock stumbled through it, momentarily disorientated.

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock blinked, then groaned as inaudibly as he could when his nose picked up a scent that he had been aware of before, but nothing to the level he was now getting. God, it was good.

“Sherlock, what are you doing here?”

“Needed safe place,” Sherlock said, trying not to inhale too much, which wasn’t going swimmingly. “Could ask…the same of you.” Going on routine, his feet took him over to the examination table where he sat down.

“It’s my office, I’m entitled to be here if I wish to, no matter the time of day.” John leaned against the doorframe in an apparently indifferent attitude. “Can’t really say the same for you, smart guy. So I ask again; what are you doing here instead of being in your dorm as you should be at this hour?”

“I needed a safe place,” Sherlock repeated, his growing frustration and annoyance actually helping him gain some much needed clarity. “There isn’t a proper, Alpha-proof lock anywhere in the dormitories and…” he said, then swallowed, loath to think the word, much less say it. After a moment, he continued. “And I don’t want to be jumped by the first…first Alpha that gets a whiff of me.”

There was only the light coming from the lamp at John’s desk to illuminate the room and subsequently most of the doctor was indistinct in the poor light, including his face. Nevertheless, there was the distinct sense that a flash of something primal and dangerous crossed the usually so open and friendly face.

“Yet you come here,” John said in a deceptively neutral voice. “You must know, even in your addled state, that the only way you’re getting in here is if there’s someone already inside the room. That someone would be me, in this case, which you’d also know. So the question becomes, if you don’t want Alphas to get a whiff of you while you’re in Heat, why did you decide this was a good place to go?”

Sherlock didn’t really have much of an argument for that. John did have a legitimate point. Making matters worse, to hear the word ‘Heat’ actually said out loud really brought home the reality of his situation. He had presented as an Omega and his body had chosen to present by going into Heat abruptly and forcefully.

“Please, John,” he said, his voice much weaker than it would ever normally be. “I…I didn’t know where else to go. Who else to turn to – please, can you help me?” He looked at the silhouette of the Alpha, trying to work out what his mood was without much success.

John moved closer, which didn’t help the teen with clarity of mind, as so did the scent coming off of the other man.

“Are you aware of what you’re saying, Sherlock? What you’re asking for?” The voice was still neutral, but the spike of intensity in the Alpha pheromones told another story altogether. So did the way the fingers could be seen to flex, and the dilated pupils were not only related to the low light.

Sherlock moaned softly, the pheromones practically swarming his already fired up senses. Had John always smelled this good? If he had, why on earth hadn’t he jumped him ages ago? It was absolute torture to be this close and not be allowed to touch. He let out a soft whine; the question had not even registered in his mind.

Normally the fact that he was so under the sway of his body’s demands would have bothered him on an intellectual level, but right then there was very little in Sherlock’s mind besides the Alpha in front of him and the emotions and sensations running amok inside of him. The intensity of it as well as the fact that it was happening at all did frighten him, though, immensely so.

“I…I don’t know what’s…it feels so…it’s all I can…I don’t think it’s normal…that it’s this intense…” he said, his fractured sentences echoing the mess that was his mind. “Please, John? It burns…I trust you… _please_.” He grabbed one broad, calloused hand and squeezed hard, trying to communicate just how he was feeling.

John looked at him; this close Sherlock could discern his expression even in the low light. It still held that hint of anger he’d seen when they’d argued, but it also had the smidgeon of danger and a growing portion of concern, all of it mingled with the lust that was slowly growing more pronounced.

“I can find some…aids for you, to take the edge off,” the doctor offered, trying to give the younger man one last chance to back out.

Sherlock shook his head vigorously at that, curls bouncing. No, those wouldn’t help him. He felt sure of that and moreover, it would mean that he’d be denied the Alpha that smelled so bloody good. A sudden, horrible thought went through even the haze he was in.

“Do...you not want to? Is that why you’re hesitating?”

“God, no!” John breathed, the words seemingly coming out as a gut reaction. He brought up the hand that the brunette was gripping up so he could brush his lips across the bony hand.

“I want to, Sherlock,” he said, breath ghosting over pale skin. “But you’re young and it’s your first Heat…oh, god, you smell amazing.” He inhaled deeply, which sent a shudder through Sherlock. “Simply amazing.” Off all things, he then actually turned the bonier hand over and licked the palm.

Sherlock stared for a moment, mind frying slightly at the combined sensation of a tongue licking over his already sensitive skin and the sight of his doctor actually doing such a thing. Then he pulled his hand back so he could use it to frantically get the uniform pullover over his head, his instincts dictating his actions. If John wanted more skin, more scent, then he should have it, as soon as Sherlock could manage to give it to him.

The red woollen fabric hit the floor. By the time he got to the white shirt underneath, though, his hands were trembling too much. He cursed and redoubled his efforts, but the more he tried, the more frantic he became and the less his hands would cooperate. They needed to come off. He needed his shirt and his vest off now. His Alpha needed to see his naked flesh, to properly smell his scent. Scent him and see how willing, how _ready_ he really was.

He stilled when warm hands grabbed his and forced them away from the shirt and down to rest on the table. Before he could protest, though, his lips were captured in a kiss that may have been tender, but was also very dominating. It was miles from the kiss he’d shared earlier with the other teen; not only did John actually know how to kiss and how to take charge like an Alpha should, the fact that it was _John_ he was kissing made all the difference. This didn’t feel wrong at all. Quite the opposite. He moaned again and tried to reciprocate.

After what felt like an eternity, John pulled back. Sherlock whimpered and tried to follow, but was stopped by the hands still holding his arms down by his sides; if he didn’t want to tumble down off the table, he had to stay where he was.

“Please…” he whispered, arching as best he could in his position in an effort to get closer. It had felt so very good and he wanted, no, he needed more.

He got another, quicker kiss for his troubles. Then John’s hands moved up and made quick work of first the tie that the younger Holmes seemed to have forgotten about completely, then the shirt buttons, pushing the fabric off wiry shoulders. The vest went next, which left Sherlock naked from the waist up, open, trusting and vulnerable, his intoxicating scent slowly permeating the air. Perfect.

“John…” Sherlock knew it was a whine, but how could he not whine when he was half naked, burning from the outside and the inside at the same time, feeling emptier by the second, and the Alpha he’d been lusting after for so long just standing there, looking at him, not actually touching him?

“Shush, my lovely,” John said in a soothing tone of voice. He raised a hand and ran it gently across a defined cheek. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. Just let me get a good look at you, in a proper light, I think.”

With that, he moved backwards to flick on a few more lamps around the room to give him a better view. Interestingly, he chose not to turn on the overhead light, possibly in an effort to soothe the newly minted Omega despite the increased exposure.

Nevertheless, by the time he turned back towards the teen, there was no denying that though the Heat was clearly affecting him more and more, he was also feeling more than a little nervous about the whole thing. The almost desperate pleading in his eyes were unmistakable, however.

John was across the room and kissing Sherlock before he or the teen had a chance to chicken out of it. While he took charge, his tongue mapping every recess of the other’s mouth, claiming it as he did so, his hands came up to run over all that pale, lovely skin that had been bared to him.

Sherlock’s breath hitched, even as he continued to let his mouth be plundered, when the broads hands skimmed over his nipples, which tightened into hard little nubs at the touch. It felt as though the most pleasurable fire was trailing across his skin with each touch. It felt so good, oh so good. He moaned softly.

When he tried to reciprocate and get his hands underneath the doctor’s plaid shirt, however, his hands were stopped once more and the kiss was broken.

“No, Sherlock,” John whispered into his ear, deliberately letting his breath ghost across it, making him shudder. “I said I’d take care of you and I meant it. That means _I’m_ the one in charge, from beginning to end. Is that understood?” He got a weak moan in response, which prompted a devilish smile that Sherlock couldn’t see. “Good boy. I’ll show you just what an Alpha can do, what an Alpha should be. Do you trust me?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. Please, John, please touch me. I’m burning up.” He certainly felt like he was. He had felt sure that when he arrived at the office, he had been heated and slick, but compared to how he felt now, it was nothing. Not only was his skin on fire, his cock was painfully hard, his backside was positively leaking slick and his insides were cramping with the feeling of emptiness.

“As you wish,” John said, a slight growl to his voice. He deftly opened Sherlock’s trousers, but though the young man gasped and arched to get some friction on his throbbing member, he carefully avoided the area. Instead he pulled at the woollen fabric of the trousers, urging the teen to lift his bony hips and incongruously plush arse so he could slide the trousers and the black boxers underneath them off in one smooth movement, leaving Sherlock completely exposed in front of him.

Before he let the garments drop to the floor, though, John drew them up so that he could inhale the scent coming from the slick soaking them. He did so very deliberately, watching as those pale eyes widened even as they dilated further.

“Lovely,” the Alpha said. He put his hands on lithe thighs, massaging slightly. “Now, Sherlock, you really ought to be punished, you know,” he continued, the predatory look back on his features. “Why? Because you messed around with another Alpha before you came here.” With that, his hands went from massaging to gripping, drawing the legs apart as he moved in closer.

“Oh, you thought I couldn’t smell him on you?” The voice was low and ever so slightly dangerous, which only turned Sherlock on more, even as it unsettled him. “Breen from the fifth form, wasn’t it? Never knew the lad had that kind of initiative. But then again, he has been eyeing you up for a long time, now, hasn’t he? Been lusting after you before he had a clue what he’d present as, I think. That’s…enterprising, at least. Leading him on, were you?””

“No…” Though he had been, what with trying to use the other boy’s infatuation with him to get John out of his system, he most certainly wasn’t going to say so. Especially since there was the risk that it would mean this would stop. That could not happen.

“Are you sure? You’ve most certainly been leading me on for quite a while, too.”

Sherlock shook his head violently at that; while he could admit to himself that he’d been leading Breen on and that John had affected him, he truly didn’t think he’d been leading the Alpha on. If anything, in his book it had been the other way around, before Mary stepped onto the scene.

As if in response to an unsatisfactory answer, John moved his hands down to the back of bony knees, caressing for a moment. Then he gripped, a tight hold that was just edging on possessive, and pulled so that Sherlock was drawn forward, torso tipping backwards onto the black leather quickly due to his balance being unsettled by the sudden movement.

This caused a noise of startled surprise to escape from Sherlock. It turned into one of confusion when his legs were lifted and placed into the stirrups of the table. Then a deep-felt groan came from the teen as the movement sent cool air past his already more than sensitive hole, cooling the slick that continued to leak out of him and sensitizing the area even more. God, how could it feel so good and so horrible at the same time?

“Perhaps you should have a little lesson,” John said, “on just how it feels to be teased and teased until you’re begging for it.”

“You said you’d…help me,” Sherlock said. He meant it to sound accusatory, but the panting breathiness of his voice ruined it significantly as did the slight rise that indicated a bit of panic.

He got no answer. At least, he didn’t get a verbal one. Instead he got a smile that managed to be unsettling, reassuring and arousing all at once. Then all thoughts fled the teen for the moment.

A finger was pressing at his slick, loosened entrance. It was light, just the pad of the finger pressing against the pucker without going inside. Even so, it was enough to make Sherlock press down for more.

As soon as he did, however, the finger moved just far enough away that it wasn’t touching him anymore and was out of reach for him in his position. Nevertheless, he tried a few more times to reach, going so far to get on his elbows for better leverage, but it was to no avail. Defeated, he returned to the position he had originally been put in.

“Please,” he said instead.

“Good boy,” was the praise he received in turn. More importantly, the finger was back, tracing around his rim once, twice, before it pressed in, going in easily to the echoing gasp of the brunette. When it could go no further, it slid out slowly, careful to brush against the inner walls on the way, only to have the first finger joined by a partner on the next move inwards. Loose and needy as Sherlock already was, the two digits fit in easily.

“Oh…oh…” They were about the only words he was capable of right then.

“God, aren’t you a beautiful little creature,” John breathed, slowly picking up speed as he continued to scissor and twist his fingers inside that warm, slick passage.

“John…!” Sherlock was shuddering as the sensations built inside him, the ministrations of the broad, agile digits stoking the licks of fire radiating through him. He had no leverage in the position he’d been put in, but he had learned his lesson and wasn’t going to challenge who was in charge. He wasn’t sure he could handle it stopping again.

That didn’t mean that he was content just to be fingered. It felt indisputably good, magnificent even, but with every movement inside of him he became more and more aware that he needed more. To put it bluntly, that he needed a cock inside him, filling him up until he couldn’t take anymore, until his insides was swimming in seed.

He mewled, scrabbling at the leather underneath him, trying to find some sort of handhold.

His need for something to hold onto became even greater when he felt something different nudging at his already penetrated hole. For a moment he thought and hoped that it was the dick he was so in need of. But not only had he not heard the rustle of any fabric being moved or a zipper lowering, though the object pushing into him was long, it was far too cold and unyielding to be what he so needed to feel.

“Oh, no…no please, John. Not that. I need…I need you, not a toy. Please, I’m absolutely burning up.”

“Shush now,” John soothed. He’d pulled his fingers out and was now using that hand to guide the dildo in and out in slow increments, matching the pace he had set with his fingers earlier on. “It’s rather flattering, to be honest, even in your fevered state, but you need release first. Slick as you are, when it’s your very first Heat you’ll be far too tight, perhaps not to handle being penetrated by a real cock, but most definitely to be knotted without tearing something. I don’t want to see that.”

It occurred to Sherlock, in his lust-hazed mind, that for all the smell of aroused Alpha filling up the room, mixing with his own Omega pheromones, John was sounding rather coherent. He retained the ability to string together whole sentences that made sense.

A sense of dread hit the teen suddenly, even as he gasped and writhed under the ministrations. Perhaps that meant John didn’t feel like he did, after all? Perhaps he was taking pity on the poor, besotted teenager who had no idea how to handle his first full-on Heat? That would certainly explain why he seemed unaffected apart from the unavoidable purely physical responses to the pheromones permeating the air in the room. Sherlock felt his throat constrict.

It was only when he felt fingers move gently across his cheek and spread wetness already there that he realized he was crying. He tried to stop as he looked up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate in that aspect either.

“Hey now, Sherlock, what’s wrong? Does it hurt?”

The brunette shook his head minutely, unable to force a verbal reply out. It certainly didn’t help his feelings at the moment that the doctor was leaning over him, close but carefully not touching him.

John looked him in the eye for a few moments, taking in the evidence before him. The concern visible then changed to a more tender, understanding expression and he leant in to kiss the teen on the lips. It was tender, but it also held Alpha dominance and a clear communication of his want.

He pulled back only when Sherlock was clutching at the lightly muscled arms. A hand went up to card through the sweaty, messy curls.

“I don’t know what’s going through that massive brain of yours right now, Sherlock, and to be frank, I’m amazed you’re coherent enough to think at this moment, judging by how far along in the Heat you actually are at this point. But I think I can guess some of it.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t want to, okay? I do, fucking hell, I shouldn’t, but I do. So fucking much. You’re gorgeous and brilliant and I want to plough that delectable arse of yours until you can’t think of anyone else but me.”

“I don’t.”

“What’s that?”

“I…already don’t think of anyone else but you.” In his normal state of mind Sherlock would have considered the words the epitome of sentiment, but right then he couldn’t really find it in him to care. After all, they were pretty much true.

At that, the tender expression shifted into something that was still warm, but now held the passion that John had apparently been suppressing until then. Something came up to press against the brunette’s left buttock, but it took him a moment to recognize it as John’s clothed erection straining against the fabric as it pressed at heated skin.

“For future reference, Sherlock,” John said, voice suddenly gone a tad deeper and rather gravellier, “you might want to be somewhat more careful with how you phrase things like that with a future partner. That is just the sort of thing that will drive any Alpha mad with lust.”

“And you?” Sherlock dared to ask. He didn’t like the sound of ‘future partner’. Not so much because he didn’t want to have sex in the future, but because right then he didn’t want a future partner that wasn’t John. It was sentiment again and he didn’t care.

“Oh, you have no idea.” It was practically growled. “No idea at all!”

There was the sound of rustling fabric, of a belt hitting the floor with a clunk and a zipper being pulled down. All of them sounded in close succession, which indicated something of a hurry.

Before Sherlock had a chance to bemoan the lack of touch, he let out a startled gasp as the dildo was pulled from him as fast as was possible, an audible squelch heard as it came out. He did moan at the empty feeling clawing at his gut almost as soon as there was nothing inside of him, even though the silicone had been a poor substitute for what he really needed.

It was only a few moments, however, before he felt something infinitely better than any kind of toy could be, at least at that point in time, prodding at his rim.

“Oh, please…please, John, fill me. Knot me.” If he wasn’t filled with a real prick soon, his mind and body would simply implode, he was sure.

“I will,” the Alpha replied, his voice gone even more gravelly, pushing inside at a pace that to Sherlock felt agonizingly slow. “I’ll…oh, God…fill you until you are…so _tight_ …positively stuffed full of seed…mmh…knotted to the point of bursting.”

By the time he finished speaking, John was flush against the plump arse, cock pressed in as far as it could go, tip rubbing against the prostate. His hands were holding onto Sherlock’s wrists, keeping them tight together above the sweat-dampened curls, his pupils had dilated further and he was breathing heavily.

Underneath him, Sherlock wasn’t faring any better. Fingers, even a dildo, were one thing, but neither of them came close to comparing to the quite overwhelming, encompassing experience of having a long, thick, warm cock inside of him, twitching, throbbing and soothing some of the aching emptiness that was consuming him. Add to that the gorgeous smell coming off the Alpha, practically cocooning him where he lay, and he was in quite the torturous heaven, even without his own erection getting even a cursory touch or any movement from the man above and inside him.

It was just as well, as it seemed like John was struggling to hold on to his control. His grip on the teen’s bony wrists were tight to the point of bruising, his eyes had closed and were squeezed shut, and he was trembling.

“John?” Even in his needy state, it sparked a sense of worry.

The Alpha bent his neck and inhaled deeply at the place on the Omega’s neck where the scent was the strongest, which only intensified his trembling. “Oh, Christ, Sherlock…you have no idea, do you? How bloody tight…you are…how incredible you smell…oh, lord...how you _feel_ …” He let out a small growl.

“Then show me?” Sherlock meant for it to sound demanding, but it ended up as a question instead. The grip on his wrists and what had happened earlier told him that trying to make demands right then would be a tremendously bad idea. “Please, you feel…so good and it hurts inside. I need…need…” He couldn’t even articulate it, just arched as best he was able to, seeking as much contact as possible.

“I know what you need and I’ll give it to you, don’t worry.” With that, the Alpha started to move.

There was none of the gentle thrusting he’d started out with both with the fingers and the toy. Instead there was long, powerful thrusts that pushed the teen upwards ever so slightly on the leather surface on each inward slide. After only a few thrusts at different angles, he found just the spot where the prostate was and was careful to hit that spot with every subsequent push in.

This in turn made Sherlock keen and gasp, uttering garbled words between the two that made very little sense to anyone but him. Not that he cared much at that point.

If he could have, he would have been gripping onto the broad, strong shoulders of the Alpha, clinging for dear life as he was fucked, the slick continuing to leak out of him even as he clenched down on the welcome intruder, his own prick dribbling pre-come.

He had not known. How could he have _known_? He had read about the reactions and sensations prior, but that had been in textbooks that had spectacularly failed to convey what it had actually felt like. If he’d been asked before John had come into his life whether he’d ever want to experience sex, he would have snorted derisively and told the questioner no. After the first meeting with the gorgeous Alpha he would have had to admit that he might want to, if the right person was involved.

Now, speared on that wonderful cock that repeatedly parted him deep, deep inside just like he so desperately needed, and filled his world with nothing but tingling pleasure, he would quite honestly have been happy to spend his life doing nothing but have sex, if it was John he would be having sex with. Even the thought of bonding and pregnancy only filled him with more heat and pleasure.

Dimly he was aware that John was still saying words, but he didn’t pay them much heed. As long as he wasn’t stopping, he could say anything he liked, really.

“Fucking hell, if I’d known…if I had known you would present as an _Omega_ …but you came to _me_ …not to anyone else…God, what you do to me…you’ll be mine…only mine, full of my seed, my offspring… ** _mine_!** ”

He released Sherlock’s wrists so that he could run his hands down the smooth, flushed skin, squeezing and pinching at certain places, the nipples in particular, as he continued to thrust hard and deep.

As soon as his limbs were free, Sherlock took the opportunity to gain some sort of leverage to push back. He managed to get himself upright enough to grab onto the broad shoulders that were bent over him, digging his nails in hard enough that he was positive he would leave marks. At the same time, he used the new position to lower his head and suck hard at the place on the back of John’s neck where the faint traces of Mary’s mark still lingered. Her scent was no longer detectable, even when he got right up close, and the act of bond biting could only be performed by an Alpha on an Omega’s neck, inside or even outside of Heat, but that didn’t mean the younger Holmes didn’t have a strong urge to obliterate the mark of anyone who came before him.

The change in position had also changed the angle, forcing John even deeper with each piston of his hips. This in turn also drove the slowly expanding knot all the way inside the wet, tight passage much more easily, which ripped a groan from John and a high keen from Sherlock.

“Please…” the brunette rasped, very little voice left, “I’m so close, John…knot me, please…knot me hard…make me yours completely…please!”

Desperate to feel the knot expand fully and lock John inside of him, he dared to take a bit of initiative. On the next thrust in, he clenched his anal sphincter for all that it was worth, while he sank his teeth hard into that spot he had been sucking on.

He was rewarded with a shout that bordered on a howl and the knot expanding rapidly inside of him until it was fully swollen and pressing against his inner walls.

That in turn was enough to send Sherlock over the edge, body shuddering violently, internal muscles convulsing and a scream erupting from his throat as he came, untouched cock spurting onto both their stomachs while the Alpha’s seed shot deep inside of him, filling him up and putting out that agonizing fire raging inside.

All Sherlock could feel was the pleasure, the Alpha, and all that he could hear was his own shuddering gasps and his hammering heart. He was vaguely aware of his legs being lowered and strong arms coming around to cradle him against that warm, comforting chest.

“I’ve got you, Sherlock, don’t worry, I’ve got you, love. I know it’s overwhelming, but it’ll feel better soon, I promise. You’re okay, shush now, I’ve got you.”  

The exhaustion from the entire ordeal, the fear and uncertainty as well as the encompassing sense of comfort he got from having the Alpha he’d wanted for so long all around him, taking care of him all bore down on the poor teen and he soon slid into the welcome arms of unconsciousness.

His last thought before blackness swallowed him was that John thought he was too overwhelmed to deal with the experience of being knotted, being impregnated. He managed a weak chuckle in his mind at that.

It wasn’t the knotting that had him affected or at least that wasn’t the main thing. It was the absolutely certain knowledge that after all of this was over, he would lose John, one way or the other.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, he groggily pulled himself up into a sitting position after a few moments, then tried to take stock of the situation. He was still in the doctor’s office, on the examination table, though it had been cleaned of any…emissions. It seemed like he was on his own, from his admittedly groggy view of the world, and he had the curious feeling of being full to bursting and achingly empty at the same time. Before he had time to panic, though, he felt an arm slide around his shoulders and squeeze gently.

He managed to neither freeze up at the touch nor melt into it. How he pulled that off, he honestly had no idea.

“Sorry to leave you lying there, but I didn’t really think you’d respond well to waking up in another location than the one you fell asleep in, aside from carrying you all the way back to your dorm room. You feeling okay?”

An unbidden snort escaped Sherlock. “You mean, am I alright after my body choosing to present as an Omega of all things by going into Heat, causing me to run to and beg and plead for the school doctor to bugger me silly and knot me so hard that I practically blacked out?” A smile ghosted across his lips. “Yeah, I suppose so, all things considered.”

He didn’t turn his head, but he could hear John swallow.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” he said, indeed sounding very apologetic. He didn’t pull his arm away, though, but he did loosen his hold. “I know I took advantage of you in a compromised – “

“No, you didn’t,” the brunette interrupted. “I asked you. Begged you repeatedly, as I recall. Offered myself up on a platter.” While he wasn’t sorry for what had happened, as such, he felt enormously stupid for not thinking the mental consequences through at all.

“That doesn’t mean you chose, does it?” Now John sounded downright anguished. That broke through Sherlock’s own thoughts of self-loathing and he looked up sharply, studying the other’s face.

“I might ‘only’ be a teenager,” he said after a moment, looking down and away, “but I’m far from being mindless or unable to say no if I didn’t want it. If I was just running scared, why would I run all the way down here, not knowing whether you’d be here or not?”

“You needed a safe place,” the Alpha countered. “You said so yourself.”

“Which I could have probably found somewhere else, if I didn’t want anyone near me. If I didn’t want _you_ near me.” He looked up again, as an imploring a look on his face as he could manage while holding his own uncertainties back as best he could. “You said you wanted me, really wanted me, when…when I was vulnerable and I assume,” _I fervently, desperately hope,_ “that you meant it. That you weren’t just humouring a scared young man going through his first Heat so that he wouldn’t be on his own. Can you not extend to me the same courtesy?”

“Of course, but…”

Sherlock, who had turned his gaze downwards again, didn’t seem to notice John had spoken and just carried on talking, hardly able to stop once he had begun. “You don’t need to struggle with the concept of being unfaithful to your…your girlfriend. I promise I won’t tell anyone anything and…” he paused, swallowing.

Before he could continue, he was stopped by the feeling of lips pressing against his temple, tenderly but very insistently. He unconsciously leant into the touch.

“I should have known that you’d worked that out. You were always very observant. Let’s leave Mary out of it, she’s not important.”

“Of course she is, don’t be stupidly chivalrous and spare me.”

“Believe me, she isn’t, not anymore.” The Alpha let go of the teen so that he could move in front of him. He bent forward and cupped the newly presented Omega’s defined jaw with both hands. Sherlock looked into blue eyes and felt his body respond once more, even tired out as it was. “And if you’d have let me actually answer before, I would have said that of course I wanted you. I want you now, too, and not just because you’re a young Omega that I’ve just knocked up. That reminds me.”

With one hand he reached over for something nearby, pressing it against plush lips until Sherlock opened his mouth and swallowed what was offered him. It turned out to be a couple of pills that had a strangely bitter taste as they went down.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing poisonous, just a bit of emergency contraception.”

“I’d already worked that out, yes.” As if he’d have swallowed if that had been the case, however besotted he might be.

“Of course you had, clever clogs,” John said with a snort. “Nice try to disguise your worry, though, I’ll give you that. There was a reason I gave you those and a reason I didn’t bite you, either.”

“You don’t want to be stuck with a bond mate who is ten years younger than you, is a student at your place of employment, hasn’t got any means of supporting himself and is far cleverer than you.”

“Yeah, ta for that. Good to see that presenting as an Omega hasn’t majorly changed your personality.”

It was probably meant to have sounded far gruffer and more annoyed, but instead it sounded faintly bemused and, if Sherlock was any judge at all, rather fondly exasperated. It was one of the teen’s favourite tones from the doctor.

John kissed him again, briefly and with mouths closed.

“For such a bright kid, you really are something of an idiot, sometimes. If the age difference really bothered me that much, I should and would have left you well alone. You commented on my coherency during it, remember?” Sherlock nodded; he did vaguely recall something to that effect. “That is something I’ve learned, to have that control so that I don’t become a mindless animal. Not that you didn’t affect me, bloody hell, you did, almost did become…” John trailed off, eyes glazing slightly and the teen suspected that he had been far more affected than he was willing to admit. “…anyway, the point is that the age difference isn’t an issue.”

“Then what is?”

“That you’re young,” John said. Sherlock tensed immediately. “No, not like that. But you should be given the choice of who to bond with, an informed choice. Seventeen is very young to bond. I’m not saying no, but I want you to make the decision rationally when you’re not under the influence of anything.”

“As my Heat seems to have faded, I’m not really under the influence of anything, am I? I want you, John. Have since I first saw you.” Sherlock grabbed the Alpha’s hand, not wanting to let him go.

John looked conflicted for a moment. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion and his expression cleared. “Alright, I’ll cut you a deal. You’re above the age of consent, but you’re still not an adult in the eyes of the law. Yes, they’re idiots, shut up, that doesn’t change the facts of the matter. You worried above you not having the means to support yourself.”

He paused, searching the defined face briefly. “If, and only if,” he then continued, “you haven’t changed your mind when you’re legal _and_ have decided on a university course, then you can come back and we’ll see.”

“We’ll _see_?” Pale eyes narrowed dangerously. “You couldn’t have come up with a lie that sounded more like bollocks if you _tried._ You know what, never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”

He made as if to get off the table, but his sudden movement upset his body and he swayed. The Alpha grabbed him by the arm to steady him.

“Your body’s still exhausted, Sherlock, I really wouldn’t recommend that right now.”

The younger Holmes tried to pull his arm away, but the doctor held fast. “You’re rejecting me; I can do the same.”

“I am _not_ rejecting you, you pompous, little arse!” John snapped, his Alpha nature coming out in his anger as well as the tightened grip on the slim, wiry arm. “I am being the responsible adult that are giving you the most options possible, so that you don’t make a decision now that you’ll regret in no time at all. I don’t want to be a fucking _mistake_!”

That shot Sherlock up. More than most other things that had happened, such a completely unchecked response from the Alpha was proof that he wasn’t being fobbed off or let down gently. If he had been, there had been no reason for the outburst or the frankly possessive grip the man had on his arm, which was close to bruising and would fit in beautifully with the rest of the marks he had from their little escapade.

“You’re…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Bloody well serious, yeah,” John said. He sighed heavily and raked his free hand through his strangely blond and brown speckled hair. “Fuck, Sherlock, you have no idea. No idea at all.”

He looked up at the ceiling, as if to find the answers that eluded him. “There’s nothing that I want more than to have you as mine, to be honest – you pretty much had me when you managed to deduce me while you let me treat your acid burn the first time you came in here, as embarrassing as that is to admit.”

John let go of the arm he held so that he could sit down next to the new Omega on the examination table. “Thing is, I am a bit of a romantic at heart, too, and…”

“You want your partner to be your equal.”

“To what extent it’s possible, yeah. Not saying I’m above Alpha tendencies, but…”

“No, I get it.” Sherlock bit his lip for the briefest of moment, then mentally shook himself hard. He put one bony hand on the doctor’s knee, the movement quick and decisive. The smile he gave the older man as he looked him in the eye was tentatively hopeful, though, which gave his face a much younger and much more vulnerable expression. “I do.”

John smiled, that smile that lit up his entire face and had probably won him more than one partner throughout the years; it was a fact that the Omega didn’t much want to think about.

“That’s a deal, then.” Somehow, to Sherlock, it felt more like a vow, though he mentally admonished himself for such a ridiculous notion.

It did remind him, even in the midst of the warm glow that had settled into his middle, of another quite significant hindrance to his new goal in life.

“Oh, god,” he groaned. “I’d forgotten about Mycroft.”

“Who’s Mycroft?”

“My fat, interfering, controlling, nosy brother,” Sherlock replied. “He’ll find out I’ve presented as an Omega and that I have had…an adult to help me through my first Heat before you can say knife.” He unconsciously moved close enough that his side, still completely nude, pressed up against the doctor’s only slightly more clad one. “He won’t like that and will try to pair me up with someone… _’suitable’_ ,” he sneered the last word, “that I’ll be bonded with as soon as I turn 18, most likely. That and he’ll try to bribe you to leave me alone or something equally Victorian.”

The Alpha seemed to take a moment to digest the new information. Then he raised an eyebrow. “No love lost between you two, then, huh? Well, if I’m not going to be sensible enough to leave you alone because you’re a student, you’re seventeen and I should bloody well have my head examined, probably, I don’t think a bit of wrangling with a controlling brother is going to talk me out of it.” He put his arm around the bare, bony shoulders and squeezed.

It was extremely reassuring, but even so, the slight lump of uneasiness in the pit of Sherlock’s stomach wouldn’t go away after it had settled there. He knew his brother, all too well.

 

* * *

 

 

If John was surprised to see a tall, imposing man in an immaculate, dark grey pinstriped three-piece suit standing just outside the room he was exiting, he managed not to let it show at all. The fact that the man looked utterly out of his element and yet completely in it probably had something to do with it, as did the features that were very reminiscent of Sherlock, even if the ginger hair was a bit of a surprise.

“Mycroft Holmes, I presume?” John said. He chose not to put out his hand in greeting, as he suspected it wouldn’t go down well.

“Indeed, Doctor Watson,” the man replied in a voice that was calm, even and measured. “Though that should hardly be difficult deduction, given that you are exiting the room of my baby brother.” He gave a smile at that, a tight, insincere one.

John took as discreet a sniff of the air as he could and detected that the man was an Alpha, though he had taken the curious trouble to mask it somewhat with a cologne that smelled very nice and very expensive. Odd thing to do, that.

“Yeah, I thought he’d appreciate sleeping in the bed he’s used to,” the shorter man said in an equally calm voice. He wasn’t going to be intimidated by another Alpha who was of a better social standing than he was. It did give him pause in regards to the family his hopefully future bond partner belonged to, though, but he’d cross that bridge when, and if, he came to it.

“Really? I confess to some astonishment that you did not just deposit him in the bed that is to your disposal here at the school. After all, it’s not only bigger, but it’s far closer to your…office, which would seem far more ideal after such an ordeal.”

The doctor put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. “Are you referring to the fact that I’ve helped your brother through his first Heat that he was so overwhelmed by?”

“Quite so,” the ginger Alpha replied, a sour twitch to his upper lip revealing that he most certainly did not approve. “Quite inappropriate, too, a grown man taking advantage of a young, not yet legal – “

“I’ll stop you there. The age of consent is sixteen and Sherlock is most certainly above that age limit.”

“That does still not change the fact that as an adult, you should have been above giving into the carnal, animal thoughts and urges of both my brother and yourself, but since you quite obviously were unable to do so, I have come prepared.”

He dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a couple of familiar pills. He moved towards the door, but John shifted on his feet to block his pass.

“Ah, no. I’ve already given him a few of those,” he said in a deceptively calm manner, “and before you ask, no, I didn’t bond with him either, though to be honest, I don’t quite see how any of this is your business.”

Mycroft, clearly annoyed at being stopped, drew himself up to his full height. “I am his elder brother and the head of the family. I am fully within my rights to make sure that my younger sibling has not been violated or coerced into anything by a complete stranger. A stranger who is a doctor that has only just landed his first job after being a junior doctor and being rejected for military service. What was it, alcoholic tendencies?”

John didn’t rise to the bait, but his jaw did set and his eyes hardened. “’None of your business, quite frankly. Not now and not if Sherlock decides that he wants to be mine. You might consider that coercing, but you know your brother very poorly indeed if you think that anyone can coerce him into something that he does not want to do.”

He had had doubts about that himself, but he most certainly wasn’t going to let on that he had, least of all to this pompous twit.

Instead he leant against the doorframe, arms crossed across his chest. “As far as I am concerned, Sherlock is already mine and nobody except him can say anything to make me change my mind. If he decides he doesn’t want to bond with me when he is older, that is fine. But that has to be his own, informed, _uninfluenced_ decision and,” he said, taking a moment to take another sniff, “to be honest, I don’t think you’re in any position to judge when you’ve bonded with someone, but has covered up the scent of it in expensive cologne that is designed to enhance your Alpha scent and downplays that of your bonded. Pretty dick move, that, I’d say.”

He smiled without much trace of humour in it. “I think we’re out in a bit of pot and kettle situation here, wouldn’t you say?”

John expected for the elder Holmes brother to either ignore him completely or to make a remark that as cutting as any of Sherlock’s while retaining outward civility. He got neither.

What he got instead was a genuine look of surprise for a brief moment, which changed into an equally brief one of admiration before disappearing beneath the calm façade once more.

“Well played, Doctor Watson,” the ginger said, inclining his head just the merest fraction in acknowledgement. “I do see that my information has been somewhat…incomplete. Sherlock seems to have chosen well.” He gave another fleeting smile that sent the most unpleasant chill down John’s spine. “I trust this is not the last I will have the pleasure of your company.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away in long strides that rang in the quietness of the hall.

When the last echoes had died away, John felt the door behind him open gently with a soft click.

“He will monitor your every move from now on, looking for an opportunity to strike, make you ineligible and have the plan he’d already worked out for me resume.”

“Of course he will. He wouldn’t really be your older brother if he didn’t, would he?” the doctor replied. He turned around to face what was visible of the new Omega in the crack between the door and the frame, which was mostly dark curls and a pale eye that displayed a smidgeon of worry. “He’ll probably also try to intercept any letters.”

“Email, too, and phone calls. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done without alerting his fat nose.”

“Sherlock, behave.” The Alpha pushed the door open enough to get in one more kiss, at the same time inhaling that enormously sweet scent coming off the teen. “That said, you’re right, and I’ll keep in touch, of course I will. I won’t leave you all on your own, unless that’s what you want me to.”

“Oh, do shut up and get in here.”

“Only to tuck you in.” John winked.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Just _get in here!”_ He had grabbed the doctor’s shirt sleeve and was tucking hard. John shook his head, smiling, and followed without another word.

 

* * *

 

 

_3 years later_

 

The light hadn’t been turned on. It was a stupid thing not to do, but John had been rather snowed under with paperwork that always seemed to snow him under coming up on summer break, so he had forged on with writing and forgotten that he ought to have gotten up and switched the light on when the light outside faded.

Eventually, his eyes had had quite enough for one evening and he was forced to sit back and press the heels of his hands against his closed eyelids. It hurt to do so, but it was also a terrible relief.

Opening his eyes again, he was forced to admit that he would have to wait a bit before attempting to focus on the paper in front of him again. Thus all he could do with the time was think.

It wasn’t long before his thoughts turned to Sherlock. That brilliant, infuriating, gorgeous, impossible teen didn’t leave his thoughts for very long, even though he hadn’t seen the man himself in almost three years, not since after he’d graduated from the school and gone on to university, where he was now studying chemistry.

Not that they hadn’t kept in touch. There had been a few letters, a couple of emails and quite some phone calls, though the Omega always groused about how much they were leaving open for Mycroft to tap into. John wasn’t bothered; if the elder Alpha had any real ammunition to sink what was between John and Sherlock, he would have used it by that point.

What was between the two of them was the heart of the issue, though. John had to admit that, pathetic though it probably was, he was still rather in love with the young genius twit, but he had come to the conclusion over the years that he was probably more in over his head than Sherlock ever had been. What had been driving him had been a strong surge of lust and infatuation and after time apart, that had faded, just as he had more or less known that it would.

It had faded into a rather magnificent friendship, he had to admit that, too, with pleasing and not so pleasing aspects of the other man blooming as he got older, giving fascinating new facets to him.

They hadn’t actually seen each other in the flesh in the time Sherlock had been to university, however. It was partly that the younger Holmes had actually thrown himself into his studies with a fervour that would have surprised the teachers at the public school, partly because John had wanted to give Sherlock as much space as he possibly could, to make up his own mind without any kind of coercing. John had promised himself that and he had managed to keep to it.

That didn’t mean it was easy for him to keep it. Not only had the break-up with Mary been anything but short or pleasant, there had been a surprising number of people, men and women, who had flirted with him in the intervening time, far more than had done so before. Perhaps it was the lure of the already attached.

And was he attached. Hopelessly and stupidly so, if the three years that had passed had been any indication. John Watson, the man with the unrequited love for a man a decade his junior. What a joke.

He grinned to himself in the dark, but there was no humour in it.

Then he heard the familiar way the door to his office scraped against the door when it was first opened. He didn’t turn to look at whoever had decided to come and visit him at that hour. It was probably one of the staff wanting a refill of the stuff they couldn’t always get at the chemist’s.

“Oh, come on. Surely whatever it is you want can wait until the morning?”

“Oh, no. I think that in this particular case, it most certainly cannot.”

John sat bolt upright. Even grown a little deeper and a whole lot more confident in the time that had passed since they’d last talked, which had been half a year ago, he would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Sherlock?!”

“Really, John, I would have thought you were beyond stating the blindingly obvious by now.”

There he stood in all his glory, backlit by the hallway light in the doorway, curly hair styled, long wool coat looking quite out of place in the early summer evening.

“Well, for all that I’ve heard anything from you the last six months,” the Alpha shot back, “you might as well be a hallucination brought on by fatigue and utter frustration with these bleeding forms!”

Sherlock strode into the room, kicking the door shut with his foot as he went.

“I can assure that I am as real as anything.”

He sat himself down, not on the examination table, for which John was somehow rather grateful, but on the edge of the doctor’s desk, right on top of some important documents. He took in the state of the desk. “You could have tidied a bit, though.”

“For all of the lovers I keep secreted in the closets?” He meant it as a joke, but he saw that for all his confidence, Sherlock couldn’t quite keep from flinching minutely at the mention of ‘lovers’.

John then decided to take a bit of initiative without making too overt a claim. He grabbed the bony hand.

“I haven’t had any lovers, Sherlock,” he said softly, focusing his gaze on the hand instead of looking up into those pale, penetrating eyes. He couldn’t, not just yet. “I meant what I said three years ago and I’ve kept that promise.” He swallowed. “That said, I don’t expect you to keep your end of the bargain. You don’t owe me anything.”

For a moment or two there was nothing but silence in the room, which stretched on forever in the doctor’s mind. Then the hand in his was pulled away and he swallowed.

When the hand came up to rest gently, almost hesitantly, against his cheek, though, he did look up to find pale eyes regarding him with a hint of the worry that he recognized from back in the day.

“Why would I come all the way here, at this hour, if I had no intention of honouring our deal? If I hadn’t waited for the day where I could come seek you out, why would I keep in contact?”

“You haven’t in half a year,” John said, the only reply he could come up with while his thoughts were suddenly thrown into disarray.

“I’ve been dedicating my full attention to the last of my undergraduate work, including my thesis. I didn’t get the results of it until today and,” he paused, possibly for dramatic effect, then smiled, “I got a first.”

Despite himself, John couldn’t help his amused laugh. “Of course you did! Congratulations!” He then sobered again. “But what has that got to do with anything? As I recall, the deal was that you’d start university before making your mind up. When you threw yourself into your studies so wholeheartedly, I thought I had my answer.”

A frown appeared on the defined features. “Yet you waited.”

“Of course I did.” Why would he not?

All of a sudden John found himself with an armful and lapful of much more elegant, but still as lithe and frankly gorgeous a body as he’d held three years earlier. He didn’t get much time to take that fact in, as he was being showered with small kisses all over his face.

“Sherlock…”

“John. John.” Between the kisses, he got scented quite a bit as well. “John.”

The doctor tried to ignore the sensations that having the man he’d been lusting after for so long in his lap engendered, exacerbated by his self-enforced celibacy, but it proved pretty much impossible. “Sherlock, I may have a lot of control, but I’m still only human and I won’t answer for the consequences if you keep pressing up against me like that.”

The Omega pulled back at that, looking confused for a moment as he studied John’s face, searching for something. Then he broke into a smile that threatened to take over his entire face, but more importantly also lit up his eyes in a way that stopped the Alpha’s heart for just a moment.

“That’s just it, John, you brilliant man. You waited for me, fully aware that you might wait completely in vain. But you still didn’t let it go, just so that you wouldn’t end up disappointing me should I return and want to honour the agreement we had.”

With that, he leant forward again, pressing his lips against those of the other softly, almost hesitantly, and for only a few seconds. Then he drew back again, balancing on the strong thighs underneath his own lithe legs while he brought a bony hand up to cup a cheek.

“I’ve waited and I’ve studied. I can now support myself and I’m a grown man. I still want you, quite desperately so, and have done so for three years. So please, John, won’t you bond with me?”

How could John resist a heartfelt plea like that?

“Yes. God, yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. All done. For real. There will be no sequel or extra epilogue or anything of the like. I thoroughly enjoyed writing the story, but i have no idea for a continuation and so this will be it :)   
> Thank you for reading this little story and I hope you liked it, sex and all.  
> Feedback is as always dearly loved and treasured :) <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like it, there's my tumblr to consider: http://elphenfan.tumblr.com/ I'd love to see you there :)


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